Page 2 of Mongrel
Like the strike of a snake, the vampire’s gaze darts to Jolan. “These are the same people your pack trades with,” he explains. “Where will you acquire fabrics, grain, or anything else you don’t produce yourselves if the villagers are so frantic with worry they can’t work? A single tracker is all I need, your best one. Then I’ll leave you to”—he waves his hand absently toward the forest—“whatever it is werewolves do on the full moon.”
I’m the pack’s best tracker, but Farkas won’t send me. He’s too paranoid to let me out of his territory. I’m banned from excursions to nearby villages, but I go anyway. I like humans. They’re simple. Friendly. Not like wolves.
For years, I’ve known I must escape this pack if I ever want to find a day’s peace, but I’ve been reluctant to take the risk. What if I leave one terrible situation, only to discover something worse? No other pack will have me, and lone wolves are known to go feral. Still, I’ve considered it. This vampire could be my chance.
With a huff, Farkas nods to his second. “Go with him, Ozor. Put him on the scent trail and lead him to the girls, then return. Surely a vampire can handle a petty human squabble from there.”
“Fine,” grunts Ozor. “Let’s get this over with, blood bandit. I have a bitch to breed.”
The vampire doesn’t hide the distaste emblazoned across his features as his glower settles on Ozor. I understand. The wolf wouldn’t know a bar of soap if it hit him square across his pinched face. And if you can make it past the stench, Ozor remains unpleasant company with his stubborn arrogance and aggressive personality. I wouldn’t want to be alone with him either.
The vampire lifts his chin, directing his next inquiry to Farkas. “Ozor is your best tracker?” He doesn’t sound convinced. And he shouldn’t be. Ozor is a shit tracker.
I make my decision.
Before Farkas can answer, I force a rapid shift. It’s painful when performed this fast, my bones snapping and reforming into place as I rise from all fours to two feet and step forward.
“I’m the best tracker.” I harden my glare, daring Farkas to suggest otherwise. “I volunteer.”
The vampire’s full attention hits me like the crackling energy of a lightning bolt, alive with heat. I meet his eyes and watch as his expression morphs from interest to shocked curiosity. His lips part.
I don’t have a fully human form like the others, only something close to it—a mix of wolf and man, not quite either. There’s no denying the animal in me; it’s written where skin becomes fur. Farkas will be angry I’ve let the vampire see this. He’d prefer my existence remain secret, but I don’t care. I like the way the vampire is looking at me. I flick my tufted ears toward him, unbothered by my nudity.
Farkas shoulders me out of the way, inserting himself between me and the vampire. “No. You’ll take Ozor, or you’ll have no one. The mongrel isn’t to leave pack land.”
As usual, he’s spoken about me as if I’m not here. An old wound festers, but I ignore it. “I’ll stay in wolf form. No one will see beyond the animal. I’m faster than Ozor, and he doesn’t want to go anyway.”
Farkas snarls at me. “Ozor knows how to obey a command, which is more than I can say for you.”
“I’m the better tracker,” I argue before common sense convinces me not to. I can’t let the opportunity pass without a fight. With a desperate look I beg the vampire to insist. He stands a better chance of convincing Farkas than I do.
“I want him,” says the vampire, picking up my cue with flawless timing.
Farkas shakes his head. “The mongrel cannot leave.”
“Why not?” The vampire lifts a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “Keeping him in wolf form suits me fine if you insist he must be hidden.”
I don’t love the sound of that, but I can disagree later, once we’ve gone.
“Consider this,” the vampire continues, sounding almost bored. It’s smart of him. “We don’t know how far the girls have been taken. This mission might take longer than you expect.”
Irritation curls Farkas’s upper lip. “How long?”
“No way to tell, maybe weeks. Remember, I’m limited to searching only by night. Can you really spare Ozor? He is your second, is he not? Or shall I have…” He hesitates as if he doesn’t want to say the word. In this moment, he earns the beginnings of my respect. “The mongrel instead?”
It’s a clever strategy, appealing to Farkas’s disdain for me, pointing out I am the lesser offering. One look at Farkas tells me it’s worked.
“The villagers must never see him,” Farkas warns. “They already suspect your kind of running amok. Wolves must remain secret.”
“Of course.” The vampire bows his head. “You have my word. And I shall escort him home safely when our business has concluded.”
I have other plans, but the vampire doesn’t need to know that.
Farkas grabs me by the biceps and spins me to face him. “Do what he says, and don’t be a burden.”
“Yes, Alpha.” My voice comes out sincere, but inside, I’m already celebrating. I don’t mind obeying a vampire if it will help the villagers, and weeks of travel will give me an idea of what life could hold outside werewolf territory.
“If you muck this up, you might not survive the punishment,” Farkas threatens me, then glares at the vampire. “And you don’t want me as an enemy.”
